


Dark roads, cold places

by Latter_alice



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:49:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24954832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Latter_alice/pseuds/Latter_alice
Summary: Dean wakes up in the passengers seat of the Impala
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester
Kudos: 38





	Dark roads, cold places

**Author's Note:**

> First contribution to the fandom, and also my first time using present tense! Exciting stuff woot

Dean's fingers graze the Impala's window when he wakes. It's an accident, just a simple movement to push himself upright, but the shock of the cold zaps him straight to his core. He yanks his hand away, and shoves it under the blanket that wasn't there when he passed out.

"Shit," his words are barely above a whisper. Fog creeps across the window, his breath staining anywhere it touches. 

And that's when he sees it. Little specks of white stand out strong in passing streetlights. Snow has always had a way of dancing, but the whoosh of hard wind makes these ones erratic, frantic in their messy descent.

"Hello Dean." Cas's voice is soft, almost as soft as whatever distant music he can barely make out on the radio.

Dean attempts to swallow, but it doesn't seem to do the trick, and just leaves his throat throbbing at the harsh dryness.

Dean squints at him. He has one hand on the wheel, and the other is nursing a cup of gas station coffee. The scent of it is thick in the air, like Baby's heaters caught a sniff and turned the heater to dark roast. His eyes are as drooped as his shoulders, but there's a smile hidden somewhere, caught between shadows and passing buildings. 

Mostly Cas just looks tired. Side effect of humanity.

Dean tries to swallow once more as thunder rumbles in the distance. It's as successful as the last.

"Morning there sunshine." He gives his best shot at speaking, but it's mostly a croak. "What time is it?"

Cas slips him the cup of coffee. Dean hums into it, takes greedy sips. It's lukewarm at best but tastes like salvation against his throat. 

Cas tilts his head, his eyes narrow just the slightest at the empty road. "Around two, I believe." 

The last thing he remembered was pit stop for dinner around five, at least a state and a half back if the road signs are anything to go by.

"Damn."

He polishes the cup off and tosses it in the designated trash bag. He tugs at Cas's arm, lazily guides it down between them by the edge of the trenchcoat, and, as easy as breathing, slips their hands together. Gives it a squeeze.

"Get off at the next exit, I'll get us the rest of the way."

Cas's smile isn't so hidden anymore. He squeezes back. "Thank you."


End file.
